Through the Eyes of a Bookworm: A World of Magic
by HermioneG11
Summary: Hermione Granger believes the only thing she is good at is memorizing information out of books. When she encounters a world of magic she finds her talents exceed her wildest dreams. Get inside Hermione's head as she experiences her first year at Hogwarts
1. Prologue

AN: PLEASE READ! THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT REGARDING THE CONCEPT OF THE STORY!!!

This story used to be called _Harry Potter Through Another's Eyes_. It has now been changed to be more Hermione-centric. This is a thoroughly rewritten first chapter. The next chapter will be posted in less than a week.

I am very, very sorry for the incredibly long lapse in posting. Everyone probably though that I abandoned this fic. I will not offer excuses that no one wants to hear, only a promise for greater consistency in the future. However, I must say one of the reasons that it has taken so long is because I have been struggling with the outline and concept of the story. I thought that it would be boring for everyone if I basically rewrote the books and changed a few things so that they're from Hermione's perspective. Then I thought it might be a nice idea to do a "missing moments" kind of thing. Within the past year I have become increasingly interested in the mentor/student relationship between Minerva and Hermione, also MM/HG has become one of my favorite ships. I believe that I may have this story head in the MM/HG direction later – as in way, Way, WAY later in the story (i.e. when Hermione isn't a student anymore). BUT WAIT IF YOU DON'T LIKE THAT IDEA DON'T STOP READING YET. Initially, I do want to focus on that mentor student bond, and if readership is there I will make divergent endings/chapters. I know I have said in the past that I won't beg for reviews, but this is a situation in which you will have to let me know. I am willing to write for both types of readers if I know the fan base is there. AND YES I WOULD WRITE A DIVERGENT ENDING FOR JUST ONE PERSON. However, that won't be for many, many chapters to come. Until then, enjoy Hogwarts life through Hermione's eyes and enjoy Minerva-Hermione mentorship interaction we never got to see in the books.

* * *

The summer sunlight glinted off Hermione Granger's hair and a gentle breeze ruffled a few curls as she passed through the oak front doors of her primary school for the last time. The summer holidays had begun exactly seven minutes ago, but instead of whooping with jubilation like the multitude of children around her, Hermione felt her heart sink further. She didn't like summer and wished that school could stay in session all year. Books, essays, exams, being the top of her class- that was what Hermione enjoyed. Not only was summer devoid of Hermione's favorite intellectual pursuits, but it also meant that she was faced with the fact that she had no friends with whom to pass the balmy days of July and August.

Heaving a sigh and clutching her books more tightly, Hermione braced herself for the walk across the playground to her mother's parked car. If she could only leave without being harassed by David Jones and his group of bullies, then maybe this day wouldn't have been a complete waste. Next year she was moving on to secondary school, to a whole new group of people, and she certainly wasn't sorry to leave Jones and his cronies behind her.

Hermione had made it halfway across the schoolyard when her books were suddenly wrenched away from her. "Hey Granger, did you think you were going to leave without saying goodbye?" smirked David Jones a hefty boy of mediocre intelligence and lacking in all forms of courtesy and manners.

"More like good-riddance," muttered Hermione under her breath.

"What was that Granger?"

"I said give me my books back Jones."

"What these?" said Jones, holding Hermione's books just out of her reach. "You can't possibly want these over the summer hols. Oh wait, I forgot," he sneered "you'll be reading the whole public library over break since you haven't got any friends." Laughing cruelly, he did a high-pitched impression of Hermione's voice and, sticking out his front teeth in imitation of her slightly over-large ones, shouted, "Look at me! I'm the buck-tooth, know-it-all! I think I'm so smart because I read a million books, but I really only do it to hide from all the people who don't like me- which is everyone! HA!

Hermione was so angry that she felt there must be steam pouring from her ears. Why couldn't these idiots just grow up? Fists clenched, she stood there until she could take no more of the burning behind her eyes or the pressure in her skull. Not able to stand one more second she shouted "leave me alone" at the top of her voice.

Perhaps it was the force of Hermione's scream or something else altogether that knocked David Jones hard onto his backside and caused him to drop the stack of books he had been holding aloft. Whatever the reason, Hermione didn't stop to contemplate it as she scooped up her books and mad a mad dash for her mother's green mini-van.

"Hello Hermione, did you have a nice-" Jean Granger's greeting died in her throat as she saw the tear stained cheeks of her daughter. "Honey, what's wrong?"

"N-nothing" said Hermione, wiping the tears off her face with the sleeve of her jumper. "Just a couple of immature boys, that's all. Nothing new."

"If you say so." relented Jean as she pulled away from the curb

Hermione was glad her mother hadn't pressed the topic. As she gazed out of the window, she felt a little ashamed for having burst into tears over a little teasing. It really wasn't a big deal. However, David Jones had touched a nerve. She had no friends and even though she would be starting a new school in the fall she thought it would be unlikely for her to make any there. Even if someone could get past her bushy hair, her big teeth, and her bookish, know-it-all personality there was still the fact that strange things seemed to happen around her. It wouldn't be long before she had the title of "freak" to go along with that of "bookworm".

Hermione snapped herself out of that train of thought. It never brought her to any conclusions and if there was one thing that she couldn't stand it was being unable to come to a conclusion about something. To distract herself she turned and asked her mother about how her day at the office had been. Soon she was laughing over the funny thing that Linda the receptionist had said at lunch.

* * *

Hermione's mood was much improved by dinner that evening. In celebration for Hermione's top marks Mrs. Granger had cooked Hermione's favorite meal. The weather was so beautiful that the family was able to enjoy the deliciously prepared spaghetti parmigiana at the table in the back garden.

During a lull in a conversation about which famous sites would be best to see during the family trip to Italy later that summer Mr. Granger decided to change the topic.

"So Hermione, I'm surprised you haven't said anything yet."

"Said anything about what, dad?"

"Your annual, beginning-of-summer trip to the London Library where you check out as many books as they let you and max out my library card as well. I thought you might like to go tomorrow?"

Rather than make his daughter's face shine with glee, as such a pronouncement had been calculated to do, Hermione's fell, and where a delighted smile should have been there was a frown.

"Hermione, princess, are you alright?" Mark Granger looked at his wife in concern. This wasn't quite how he'd planned this conversation to happen.

"I'm fine. I mean… I'd love to go to the library tomorrow" said Hermione, trying to put on a happy face. "It's just… well… I… Do you think I'll ever make any friends?" blurted Hermione. She hadn't meant to say it, but was suddenly glad she did. David Jones' words had really had quite an effect on her.

"Of course you will, Sweetheart" said her mother, coming around the table to embrace her. "Kids can be so mean sometimes. The truth is, your knowledge probably intimidates them. Once they're a little older and wisher they'll see what a wonderful young lady you are."

"That's right" said Mr. Granger "and the ones that don't will be sorry when you're the CEO of the company they're working for." This statement made Hermione giggle quietly. "That's better" chuckled Mark as he picked up his daughter and swung her in a circle making her giggles turn into outright laughter. "So, is it a date for the library tomorrow?"

Hermione threw her arms around her father's neck. "I'll go make a list of books to get right now!"

* * *

On her way to bed that night Jean couldn't help the maternal instinct to check on her daughter. Poking her head just inside the bedroom door she could see that Hermione was sleeping peacefully with a contented smile on her face.

As Jean softly closed the door she guessed that Hermione was probably dreaming about tomorrow's trip to the library. This, however, was not the case. Snuggling more deeply under the covers Hermione dreamed of going to a new school in the fall, but what she found there was even more wonderful than a big library or challenging coursework. She dreamed of having friends.


	2. An Academic Opportunity

AN: Thank you for all the kind reviews! The next chapter should be posted next Friday. By the way, if anyone is interested in being a beta for this story it would be greatly appreciated. I am managing on my own, but two pairs of eyes is always better than one!

* * *

An Academic Opportunity

It was approaching noon at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Corridors that just the week previously had rung with the laughter of school children were so quiet that the footsteps of Deputy Headmistress and Transfiguration Professor Minerva McGonagall echoed loudly off the stone walls.

Stopping in front of a large mahogany door, Professor McGonagall drew her wand and tapped it on the doorknob. With a muttered incantation the lock clicked open and she stepped into her sunlit study. Sitting behind the large desk in the center of the room and opening the top right drawer she removed her meeting schedule and a thick parchment envelope. Upon glancing down at the appointment list she saw that today she would meet with Miss Hermione Granger and her family.

Minerva smiled. One of her favorite parts of being deputy headmistress was meeting muggle-borns and seeing their first reaction the discovery that they were a witch or wizard. The most satisfying part of the whole day would be watching the family's awe-struck faces when the archway at Diagon Alley opened.

A week and a half ago letters had been sent- through the muggle post of course- to all eleven year old muggle borns, stating that they had an additional academic opportunity and requesting a private meeting to discuss the matter more thoroughly. The first response had come from Mr. Granger, who wrote that the Grangers would be glad to meet with her, but also that his daughter, Hermione, had already been accepted on scholarship to a highly prestigious secondary school and was unlikely to change her mind. Minerva was quite confident that once Miss Granger heard about what Hogwarts had to offer she would be much more willing to reconsider.

After double checking the address of the Granger residence, Professor McGonagall stood, placed Miss Granger's acceptance letter into the pocket of her muggle jacket, and exited the study.

* * *

A short time later Professor McGonagall stood facing a large brick house in one of London's many suburbs. While walking up the front path Professor McGonagall checked her watch and saw with satisfaction that it was precisely noon. If there was one thing Minerva McGonagall took pride in, it was the fact that she was never late. She rang the doorbell and after a short pause it was answered by a tall man with curly brown hair. He was neatly dressed in tan trousers with a blue shirt and argyle sweater-vest.

"You must be Professor McGonagall" he said kindly, "please come in."

He led her into a spacious hallway and through a door on the left. The living room was large, but not ostentatious. The walls were painted a light, creamy yellow and in the center of the polished oak floor lay a beautiful oriental rug of deep burgundies, greens, and blues. Directly across from the door was an ornately carved stone fireplace and to the left a set of bay windows that overlooked the front garden, radiant in the full bloom of summer flowers.

As Minerva entered she saw what must be Mrs. and Miss Granger seated on the sofa facing the fireplace. Mrs. Granger was a thin woman with honey-blonde hair that just barely brushed her shoulders. She wore a grey skirt, a purple blouse, and a warm motherly smile.

Miss Granger, Minerva noted with satisfaction, had obviously been taught how to act like a young lady. She was not slouched over or disheveled, but sat erectly in her sunshine yellow blouse with her hands folded neatly in her lap and legs crossed delicately at the ankle.

After introductions had been made and the Professor and Mr. Granger were sitting in armchairs on either side of the fireplace, Minerva decided it was time to get the conversation started. "Well, Miss Granger," she said, "I suppose we should get right down to business?"

"Yes Professor"

"Miss Granger, do you believe in magic"

Hermione thought this was a very strange question indeed and made the first reply that came to mind saying, "Of course not Professor. I was under the impression that we were going to discuss my academic opportunities. I don't see how this is relevant."

"Your impression is correct. We are here to discuss academics. And magic has everything to do with the option I am going to present to you. Firstly however, I believe a demonstration is in order. Professor McGonagall stood gracefully and drew her wand from an inside pocked. With a complicated motion and a final flick at herself the black skirt suit that she had been wearing disappeared and in its place was a set of long green robes. Another wave and the Granger's piano began to play a Mozart sonata. One last complicated gesture and a tea service appeared on the coffee table before them, complete with crumpets and several flavors of jam.

"I've changed my mind professor," said Hermione a little breathlessly. "I believe in magic now."

"Very good Miss Granger. I have come to tell you that you have magical abilities of your own. Tell me, has anything unexplainable happened to you when you were upset, or frightened, or happy."

Hermione thought and for the first time allowed herself to examine the strange things that had happened to her, things that had earned her the label of freak. Memory upon memory came flooding into her mind and hope surged within her heart. She was finally going to understand why she was so different.

"A lot of odd things have happened to me. Are you saying that it's because I can do magic?"

"That is exactly what I am telling you. I would like to offer you a place at Hogwarts where you will be able to learn to use and control your abilities." she said as she withdrew a heavy parchment envelope from her robes and handed it to Hermione. With trembling fingers Hermione slit the wax seal and removed the enclosed letter.

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY_

_HEADMASTER: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE _

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc. Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Ms. Granger,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term Begins on September 1. We await your own by no later than July 31._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Deputy Headmistress_

Hermione turned the page and began to read the list of supplies.

_UNIFORM_

_First year students will require_

_Three sets of plain work robes (black_

_One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear_

_One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)_

_One winter cloak (black with silver fastenings)_

_Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags._

_COURSE BOOKS_

_All students should have a copy of each of the following_

_The standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) Miranda Goshawk_

_A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot_

_Magical theory by Adalbert Waffling_

_A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch_

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore_

_Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger_

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander_

_The Dark Forces; A Guide in Self Protection by Quentin Trimble_

_OTHER EQUIPMENT_

_1 Wand_

_1 Cauldron (pewter standard, size 2)_

_1 Set glass or crystal phials_

_1 telescope_

_1 set brass scales_

_Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad._

_PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS_

A million thoughts and questions chased each other around Hermione's mind. Her head was swimming and her heart was beating very fast. Amid the internal chaos there was one thing that she knew for certain. She was magical. She was magical and she was going to this school where she could learn magic. There was a burning need within her, as though something that she didn't even know had been missing was suddenly restored. She was going to Hogwarts and nothing anyone said or did was going to stop her.

Hermione was abruptly brought back to the present when Professor McGonagall's crisp voice reached her ears. "Well, Miss Granger, I assume you have a lot of questions."

There were so many questions she wanted to ask. Everything from the fact that dragons existed to how a magic wand actually worked and whether there was a book that could explain it all to her. Unable to settle on any one question she allowed her gaze to wander around the room until it landed on the tea service on the coffee table in front of her. Without stopping to think, she blurted, "You just made that tea appear out of thin air! How?"

Professor McGonagall gave a small smile and said, "You may as well learn now, Miss Granger, that no one can make food appear out of thin air. Food is the first of the five principle exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration. I merely summoned it from the kitchens at Hogwarts where I had it prepared earlier this morning. You will study Gamp's law in greater detail if you decide to pursue advanced transfiguration studies at Hogwarts."

"Oh," said Hermione fascinated. Magic had rules and laws just like science? There were things to learn and study. And surely, surely, with magic the possibilities had to be endless.

Hermione turned to her parents with as much seriousness and maturity as she could muster. She wanted to beg and plead to be allowed to go to this magic school, but she knew that her parents never gave her anything when she begged. They had always taught her to present the things she wanted in a rational and adult way. Trying to sound as grown-up as possible she said, "Mum, Dad, I would very much like to go to Hogwarts. I think I have magic. I think that's why all those things that we never talk about happen to me. I just know that I need to go and learn how to use these powers and abilities. Please, may I go? Please?"

She could not keep a note of desperation out of her voice at the very end, but as she watched her parents they both seemed to be considering what she had said and thinking very deeply about what they ought to do. Finally, her father opened his mouth and addressed Professor McGonagall.

"I must say, Professor, I believe in magic now. That was quite an impressive display. And, if Hermione really does have magical powers, I think it would probably be good for her to learn to control them. These unexplainable occurrences have only increased as Hermione has gotten older. Somehow I can only see that pattern continuing. We can't have her going off to secondary school making things explode or float around and such. At the same time," he continued after taking a deep breath, "I don't know anything about this Hogwarts. Where is it? How much does it cost? What will Hermione learn there? Will it actually help her in the future?"

For the next hour and a half Professor McGonagall answered these and many more of the Granger's questions. Hermione learned that Hogwarts was in Scotland, but that its exact location was "unplottable," that the school had one of the most extensive magical libraries in the world, and that she would be able to learn more magic than she could wrap her mind around at the present time. After several more demonstrations of magic, a thorough discussion of tuition and fees, and a viewing of several informational pamphlets about Hogwarts, it was decided that Hermione would be allowed to attend.

Since Professor McGonagall and the Grangers had the afternoon free, and since Hermione simply couldn't wait to get her hands on her new course books, it was decided that Professor McGonagall would accompany them to buy Hermione's new supplies that afternoon. To Mrs. Granger's astonishment, Professor McGonagall informed them that everything on Hermione's list could be found in London, if one knew where to look.

Professor McGonagall gave Mr. Granger directions. Then all four of them climbed in Mr. Granger's car and sped off towards London.


	3. Diagon Alley

Chapter 3: Diagon Alley

Minerva McGonagall had never liked muggle contraptions. Specifically she hated automobiles and, most especially, riding in them There was something very disconcerting about two tons of metal and machinery hurtling down a road at such great speeds And the way some muggles drove! It was as though they expected an unseen force to save them from certain peril. Fortunately for her, Mr. Granger seemed to be one of the sanest motorists on the road. Forcing herself not to think of the things muggle drivers were doing to put her life in danger at that very moment, Minerva allowed herself to consider the reason she was in this muggle vehicle in the first place.

From what she had learned about Hermione Granger in the last two hours she thought the girl was just the kind of student the likes of which Hogwarts needed a few more. Miss Granger was smart and studious. Jean Granger had shown Minerva her daughter's academic records and they were very impressive. Hermione was working several years ahead of her peers and still achieving outstanding marks. Minerva realized that the coursework at Hogwarts differed considerably in subject matter, but she doubted it would make a difference to Miss Granger's academic performance. Apparently Miss Granger was a voracious reader and had such an unquenchable thirst for knowledge that the Granger family made more trips to the library than the grocery store. It was too bad that she would probably be in Ravenclaw. Griffindor could use all the points that this girl was likely to win.

Fortunately they were able to arrive at Charring Cross Road in front of the Leaky Cauldron without incident and, once Mr. Granger had found a parking spot and they disembarked from the car, Minerva led the Grangers to a small, slightly dingy pub nestled between a book store and a record shop. Mr. and Mrs. Granger did not appear to see the Leaky Cauldron, but it was clear that Miss Granger could. Judging by the frown on the girl's face Minerva guessed that it was not exactly what she had expected.

"I assure you, Miss Granger," said Professor McGonagall, "that the view from where we are going is quite a bit more glamorous." She then instructed the Grangers to hold their daughter's hands so that they could be led inside. As they passed through the pub the Professor was greeted by the barman and several of his patrons. They passed through a door and found themselves in a small courtyard, occupied by nothing but a trash can.

"Watch carefully," Professor McGonagall instructed Hermione, "you will have to do this yourself in the future." She drew her wand and showed Hermione a brick that was three above and two across from the trash can. Professor McGonagall tapped the brick three times with her wand. For a moment it appeared that nothing had changed, but then a hole began to grow at the exact spot where the wand had touched the wall. In a few mere seconds the wall was no more. In its place was a large archway overlooking a cobblestone street.

"Welcome," said Professor McGonagall, "to Diagon Alley."

There was so much to see, to hear, and to smell that Hermione was sure she would suffer from a sensory overload. There was magic being performed everywhere, the figures on posters and advertisements were moving, instruments and artifacts on display let off bangs, hisses, and pops, the air was hung with the smell of delicious food from a nearby restaurant as well as the rather unwelcome smell of potion ingredients from the apothecary. Hermione was sure she could spend a week here and still not see everything there was to see. She was just considering where she ought to go first when Professor McGonagall broke her chain of thought.

"We ought to go to Gringots first. You'll need to exchange muggle money for wizarding currency."

The transfiguration professor led the Grangers down the alley to a large, white marble building. It was certainly the most imposing structure in Diagon Alley, towering over the other shops and casting looming shadows on the otherwise sunny street. As they ascended the marble steps Hermione noticed that the two people standing on either side of the bronze doors didn't look normal. In fact, Hermione was quite convinced that they weren't even human. She turned to Professor McGonagall, intending to ask what these creatures were. Before she could find a tactful way to voice her curiosity the Professor seemed to realize what she intended to ask.

"They're goblins" said McGonagall. "They have controlled Gringots for several centuries, ever since the uprising in 1612, but you will learn all about that in History of Magic with Professor Binns."

The group continued up the stairs, through a set of silver doors, engraved with a warning against thievery. Hermione wondered what was meant by "finding more than treasure there". Beyond the silver doors was a marble hall of cavernous proportions. There were many more goblins in here including about a hundred who sat behind a long polished wood counter, writing in ledgers, weighing gems, and helping customers.

Mr. Granger was able to exchange pounds for galleons without difficulty and, once Professor McGonagall explained the value of Galleons, Sickles, Knuts to the family, they were ready to go shopping.

Professor McGonagall led the Grangers to a shop directly across the street from the bank. Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions was devoid of customers when they entered and Hermione was able to leave barely ten minutes later with three pairs of neatly folded black robes, a thick, warm cloak, a pointed hat, and a pair of dragon hide gloves.

Their next stop was at the apothecary. The smell was absolutely putrid, but Hermione soon forgot about the noxious odors as she examined the plethora of ingredients. There were things in jars, bottles, and barrels of every shape and size. She was surprised to learn, by virtue of finding their pickled, stewed, or dried body parts for sale, that many of the creatures that she thought only existed in fairy tales were real.

To purchase Hermione's cauldron, scales, and phials they went to a potion supply store next to the apothecary. It seemed impossible that there could be so many different kinds of cauldrons, including ones make of solid gold and silver, one big enough for her whole family to sit in comfortably, and several encrusted with precious gems.

Several doors down from the potion supply store was a particularly fascinating shop devoted to astronomy. The walls and ceiling were bewitched to look like the night sky. Stars and planets gleamed down upon them, casting a surprisingly bright light upon the various telescopes and galaxy models. The Grangers spent quite some time admiring a table showing the solar system's moving stars and planets and wishing that they could purchase it for their home.

As Hermione left the astronomy shop, brass telescope in hand, Hermione realized that they were either headed to purchase spell books or a wand. Frankly, she wasn't sure which she more excited to possess: the books, giving her knowledge of spells or the wand, making her able to perform said spells. All such contemplation was forgotten however, as Professor McGonagall led her into the bookstore called Flourish and Blotts. Hermione was quite sure she was in heaven. There were just _so many_ books. Books in every shape, size, and color, and all of them had knowledge of a world that she was only just beginning to discover. Before her parents could blink she was off, booklist in hand, ready to plunder the very depths of the shelves.

Not even ten minutes later she was back, laden with a copies of the first year texts. They made quite an impressive stack. Mr. Granger, fearing that his daughter would topple under the weight of her books, hastily removed them from her arms.

"Professor McGonagall," Hermione said, beaming up at her new teacher, "I was wondering if you could recommend some books for background reading? I don't know anything about the Wizarding World. I want to learn all about it and I'll have a lot of free time this summer."

"Certainly, Miss Granger," said the transfiguration mistress. Personally, I would recommend _Hogwarts: A History_, _Modern Magical History_, and _A Muggleborn's Guide to Magic_. This was really quite impressive thought Minerva. Eight textbooks would keep most eleven year olds occupied for well over a year. In fact, she highly suspected that most of the first years barely did half of their reading assignments. Yet, here was proof that there was even just one student that enjoyed reading, even asked for _extra_ reading.

Hermione scampered off to find the extra books then accompanied her father to the counter where she chatted amicably with the clerk while Mr. Granger paid and loaded the heavy tomes into several bags.

Meanwhile, Minerva was still contemplating the average Hogwarts student's lack of enthusiasm for reading when Mrs. Granger, who had been remarkably quiet all afternoon, spoke.

"Professor McGonagall," she said rather hesitantly, as though debating whether she ought to speak her mind, "I am excited for Hermione to go to Hogwarts, I really am." There was a pause before she continued, seemingly choosing her words very carefully, "but, I have to admit to being a little concerned. Hermione has never been the most… popular child. As a matter of fact, she has been downright bullied and ostracized by her peers. Our Hermione is a strong girl, I wouldn't say she's overly sensitive, but the truth is that she has never really had any friends. I get the feeling that Hermione is getting her hopes up, thinking that all of her peers will be as into books as she is. Judging by the other children I've seen around the alley today, I'm betting that's not the case. Kids are kids, she's just as likely to get teased for being brainy at Hogwarts. When she was home we could keep an eye on things and make sure they weren't getting too bad, perhaps have a discrete word with a teacher. I'm afraid that when she goes off to school we won't know or be able to do anything about it if she's miserable."

There was a short silence. Minerva thought for a moment about how she ought to respond and then said, "Bullying is not tolerated at Hogwarts, although I won't pretend as though it does not happen anyway. The professors do all they can to ensure the physical and emotional safety of all our students. In particular the student's head of house should be consulted. Your daughter appears to be a likely candidate for Ravencalw. I will be sure to let Professor Flitwick know that Miss Granger is likely to be a target and I, myself, will keep an eye open. There is no reason a student should be bullied because she enjoys her education and takes it seriously.

"Thank you Professor," Jean replied, but before she could say anything else on the matter her husband and daughter finished up their business at the counter and turned to join them.

"Last thing to get is your wand," said Professor McGonagall briskly giving Hermione a small smile. "Ollivanders is just up the street."

The group walked for several minutes before coming to a halt before a small, very old shop. A single wand was displayed upon a faded purple cushion in the window. Peeling gold lettering above the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.

"Wow," breathed Hermione. She had never experienced anything connected to something so ancient.

The three Grangers and the professor entered the shop in silence, finding themselves in a very dusty front room with thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly up to the ceiling on all sides and one spindly wooden chair. As the door closed a bell tinkled somewhere in the depths of the shop. After a few seconds of silence a soft voice emanated from the shadows.

"Good afternoon."

The Grangers jumped and looked around. A short and thin man with luminous grey eyes had emerged from a back room. He gazed around the room until his eyes landed on McGonagall.

"Ah, Minerva McGonagall. Mahogany and dragon heart string, eleven and three quarter inches. Quite a nice combination for transfiguration."

"Indeed," said Minerva crisply. It was a bit wearing that Mr. Ollivander thought it necessary to remind her that he had made and remembered her wand two or three dozen times a year.

"Well now, what do we have here?" queried Ollivander, turning to Hermione. "Muggle-born, eh? Not to worry we'll get you fitted up with a wand in no time. If you would extend your dominant hand please?"

Hermione extended her right arm as Mr. Ollivander pulled a tape measure with silver markings from his pocket. He began to measure her from shoulder to finger, wrist to elbow, and several other odd distances while he gave what was clearly a rehearsed speech.

"Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Miss Granger. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heatstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard or witch's wand."

At some point during his speech he left the measuring tape to continue its work on its own and began flitting around the store selecting boxes from the many stacks against the walls. Once his arms were full he returned to the center of the room said "that will do" to the measuring tape, which fell to the floor in a crumpled heap, and handed Hermione a thin, lightly colored wand.

Oak and phoenix feather, ten inches, nice and swishy. Give it a wave."

Hermione did so, feeling rather foolish. Nothing happened.

Ollivander took the oak wand back and handed her another. "Birch and unicorn tail hair, twelve inches, 9 inches, rigid."

This wand let off a bang when she waved it and Ollivander snatched it back in a hurry.

"Maple and phoenix feather, seven inches. Quite whippy."

Once again there was no result. Hermione tried another two dozen wands before Ollivander handed here yet another and said "vine wood and dragon heartstring, ten and a quarter inches. Strong, yet reasonably pliable."

Before she even waved this wand Hermione knew it would be hers. Warmth was spreading from the tips of her fingers, through her body. She brought the wand up and swung it in an arch. A rainbow of sparks cascaded from the end and cast dancing lights on the walls. Hermione felt so pleased. She couldn't stop smiling.

Hermione put her new wand lovingly back into its box while her father paid Mr. Ollivander seven gold galleons.

When they exited the shop the afternoon sun was low on the horizon. Their shopping complete, Professor McGonagall walked the grangers back down the alley, through the Leaky Cauldron, and to their parked car. She reversed the shrinking charm that she had applied to make the many bags, particularly those filled with books, easier to carry, and helped Mr. Granger load them into the trunk of the car.

"Well, Miss Granger," she said, "I do hope that you enjoy the rest of your summer holiday. I shall see you at Hogwarts."

"Yes, thank-you Professor."

McGonagall took several steps backwards, turned on the spot, and vanished.

"I can't wait to learn how to do that," said Hermione to no one in particular.

* * *

AN: Sorry for the delay. I'm updating on a Friday, just a couple of Fridays after I had origionally intended.

Just as a note: Minerva's wand isn't cannon. I made it up, but JKR never told us anything about McGonagall's wand. Hermione's of vine wood and dragon heartstring is cannon, but the length is not. that was never specified in the books or by Rowling.


	4. Tokens and Trains

AN: Thank you once again for the kind reviews! They are greatly appreciated

I just wanted to point out that in this chapter and those to come you will recognize some of the dialogue as being taken directly from the Harry Potter books. I give JKR all the credit that she is due. It's not that I couldn't have written my own, but I have found that, when reading stories with scenes taken directly from cannon that I notice immediately when the dialogue has been changed. Instead of focusing on the story at hand I'm thinking "that's not what s/he said." Since I am trying to stick to cannon and fit my story around it, it seemed fitting to keep the original conversations when they came up. Forgive me if this approach irritates anyone the way the opposite irritates me.

The next update will be very soon, definitely within the next week. The chapter is written it just needs to be proofread and polished.

By the way, I'm still looking for a beta!

**Tokens and Trains**

Hermione stood up from her desk, yawned, stretched, and turned to the right to open the nearest window. She had just spent the last several hours immersed in her new Hogwarts textbooks. It was absolutely imperative that she know as much as possible before she went to school. All the students who had been raised in magical households were probably so far ahead that she would never be able to catch up. Currently she had seven and a half spiral notebooks full of her small and neat handwriting detailing the information in her new textbooks. An additional two notebooks held neatly organized notes from her background reading. Quills and parchment were all very nice, but she still preferred a ballpoint pen and lined notebook paper.

Magic was fascinating. She simply couldn't learn enough about it. Her parents had taken her on several more trips to Diagon alley. Deaf to her protests that she could sit in Flourish and Blotts all day and read, they bought her quite a few more books, saying that they would be unable to purchase them for her during the school year and therefore had to make up for it now.

Hermione leaned on the windowsill and surveyed the front lawns of nearby houses. Although it was late afternoon the summer sun was still very hot. Several doors down a group of bathing suit clad children were running through a sprinkler and laughing raucously. These children were usually responsible for making her summer quite miserable if ever she chose to venture outside the house for a walk around the neighborhood. It didn't matter what they thought anymore. She, Hermione Granger, had _magic_ and they didn't. She wished she could tell them, more accurately she wished she could show them by virtue of one of the jinxes or hexes she had learned about in _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_. Yet, not only was magical revenge on her muggle tormentors of highly questionable ethics, it was also illegal. There was no sense in getting her wand snapped over immature bullies like them.

Pulled from these thoughts by her mother's shout of "Hermione, dinner!" she retreated from the window, went into the bathroom to wash her hands, and headed downstairs to the dining room.

Throughout dinner Hermione discoursed animatedly about the theory behind inorganic transfiguration while her parents listened attentively. The Grangers were used to having a brilliant daughter who sometimes said things that were thoroughly beyond them, but it was even more difficult than usual to keep up with her flow of information, even though they had both read Hermione's copy of _Magical Theory_ by Adalbert Waffling. Still they were incredibly impressed with Hermione's ability to make even the impossible seem understandable for her rather ordinary parents.

After the dishes had been cleared away the Grangers congregated in the living room. For the last week and a half Hermione had treated her parents to a small display of magic every night after dinner. As Jean and Mark took a seat on the couch, Hermione pulled from her pocket a small pink diary with a figure of a princess in a blue ball gown on the cover. It had been a Christmas present from Hermione's Aunt Helen several years ago. However, she had never written in it, preferring journals with a bit more page room for her rather verbose thoughts. The diary was clasped on the side with a dainty golden lock. Hermione withdrew an equally dainty golden key from the pocket of her jeans and handed it to her mother. She then presented the diary to her father and asked him to verify that it was indeed locked. After both Mr. and Mrs. Granger had confirmed the locked state of the diary they returned the book to their daughter.

"Observe, if you please," said Hermione, who was rather enjoying putting on a show like the magicians one saw at carnivals. She retrieved her wand from its place on the coffee table, tapped the lock on the diary, and said clearly and confidently "Alohomora."

The lock clicked open and Mark and Jean applauded briefly, then asked Hermione several questions about the how and why of the spell. The Grangers were of the opinion that magic, much like technology, ought not to be taken for granted and that those who made use of it should have at least a rudimentary understanding of the mechanics behind it. This was a value that they had always sought to impart to their daughter. And she seemed to have picked it up rather well, providing them with all the information they asked for in addition to several other facts that involved more complicated magic than the Grangers were ready to understand.

Four nights later it was the eve of Hermione's departure. Her trunk was packed and she was curled up with a blanket in her favorite armchair re-reading the most fascinating parts of _Hogwarts: A History_. Part way through a particularly enthralling passage discussing the enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall she heard a knock on the door.

"Come in!"

Mark Granger poked his head inside the room. "Do you have a minute sweetheart?"

"Of course," said Hermione, placing a bookmark between the pages as her father entered the room followed by her mother.

"We just wanted to give you a little gift before you left for school," said Jean.

"You didn't have to," replied Hermione, "after all; you've already bought me a lot of books."

"Not books, darling," said Mark. "We wanted to give you something pretty, not practical."

"Oh."

Hermione, being the soul of practicality wasn't quite sure how to respond to such a statement. While she was contemplating what her parents might have gotten her that was pretty and not practical, her father withdrew a small velvet box from his pocket.

"Your mother and I bought this in Diagon Alley the last time we were there," said Mark. "It doesn't have any magical properties because we weren't really sure what to get, but we hope you'll like it anyway. He offered the box to Hermione who removed it from his hand and opened it carefully.

Inside was a delicate golden necklace which shone brightly in the dim light of the last of the sun's rays shining through the window. The charm, also made of gold, was a Hogwarts crest, an ornate H surrounded by the Gryffindor lion, the Ravenclaw eagle, the Hufflepuff badger, and the Slytherin Serpent.

"It's… it's _beautiful_," said Hermione breathlessly. She launched herself from the chair, book and blanket falling to the floor, and hugged her parents fiercely, thanking them profusely for the gift. "But," she continued, "you were wrong, this necklace _is_ magical. Look! You can see the animals in the crest moving." Indeed, upon closer inspection the Grangers could see that the creatures were moving about in their sections of the coat of arms.

Shortly thereafter Hermione went to bed, but sleep did not come easily. She was nervous, excited, anxious, elated, and a whole myriad of other emotions for the coming day. Prominently on her mind were the Hogwarts houses and which one she was likely to be placed in. She had read _Hogwarts a History_ twice and could find no mention of how students were sorted into houses and she really didn't appreciate the fact that she was unable to find out such important information in a book. From what she had read about the qualities of the houses it seemed likely that she would be in Ravenclaw because of her bookishness. Yet, if she was honest with herself, she didn't really want to be in Ravenclaw. Learning and books were an important part of who she was but she would rather be known for her courage, fortitude, and bravery.

Not only that, but the professor that Hermione had met, Professor McGonagall was head of Gryffindor house. McGonagall seemed to be just the right sort of teacher: strict, no-nonsense, fair, knowledgeable, and concise. The professor also taught Transfiguration, which had become Hermione's favorite subject after reading _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration _by Emeric Switch. When she had accompanied them to Diagon alley, she was able to answer all of Hermione's questions with ease. And of course, she had recommended several books for background reading. That was always a plus.

Hermione turned over, sighed, and tried to get to sleep. She still couldn't believe that_ Hogwarts A History_ would say how many staircases there were in the castle (one hundred and forty two), but not how houses were chosen. It was truly exasperating.

Kings Cross Station was crowded at ten o'clock the next morning when the Grangers arrived. Mr. Granger wheeled Hermione's trolley to the area between platforms 9 and 10. As muggles, Mr. and Mrs. Granger were unable to accompany their daughter across the magical barrier to meet the train.

"Be careful," said her mother.

"Don't forget to floss," said her father, trying to lighten the mood, although his eyes looked unusually bright, as though he was trying not to cry. The sight of her father tearing up brought the realization that she was not going to see her parents for nearly four months crashing down upon her heart. She sniffed loudly and then threw herself into her father's arms.

Withdrawing from her father's embrace she was pulled into a tight hug by her mother. "Don't forget to write, dear. We love you very much and we are so proud of you."

"I love you too," Hermione replied and after regaining control over her emotions and removing the tear stains from her face, she turned to contemplate the magical barrier. As they had walked back to the car from Ollivander's Professor McGonagall had given her a train ticket and told her that to get onto the platform she had to walk straight through the barrier between platforms nine and ten. This barrier looked very solid, but in the last month her ideas of what was impossible and what was not had been turned upside down. Taking a deep breath she directed her trolley towards the brick wall. When she was one foot away she decided it would probably be best if she closed her eyes.

Reopening them again several seconds later, Hermione found herself facing a large, scarlet steam engine. A sign over head said Hogwarts Express Eleven O'clock. Smiling broadly, Hermione pulled her trunk towards the train with the aim of finding herself a compartment. Since the train wasn't scheduled to leave for another hour there weren't very many students about and it was relatively easy to find one that was empty. She managed to get her trunk into a luggage rack with the help of an older boy who didn't bother to introduce himself. Pulling out her copy of _The Standard Book of Spells: Grade 1,_ Hermione sat herself comfortably next to a window and began refreshing her memory on all that she had learned, just in case there would be a test or quiz as soon as they arrived. One never knew; that might be the way wizards did things.

An hour passed quickly while Hermione read a chapter on levitation charms. Apparently the trick with these kinds of spells was to put just the right amount of intent and power behind it. If too much magic was behind the spell the object would shoot up like a rocket. However, if there wasn't enough power the object would inexplicably catch fire.

As the train started to move Hermione was joined in her compartment by a small girl with blonde pigtails who introduced herself as Hannah Abbot and a brunette girl named Mandy Brocklehurst. Apparently these girls were already friends and, after introducing themselves and asking if they could sit in her compartment because everywhere else was full, they all but ignored Hermione to continue their conversation about some game named Quidditch and a group called the Weird Sisters that Hermione guessed was a band.

This suited Hermione just fine and she continued to read her book, moving on from levitation charms to read about other types of locomotion spells. Several hours later Hermione was confirming that she had all the difficult precepts of Grunnion's Laws affecting color change charms memorized when Hannah pulled a deck of cards from her trunk and asked Mandy if she would like to play a game of 'exploding snap'.

Hermione soon learned that exploding snap really did involve explosions. Concentration broken, she ventured out into the corridor with a set of her new Hogwarts robes, deciding to use the interruption to change.

Returning to the compartment to put her discarded jeans and sweater back in her trunk she saw that Hannah and Mandy were no longer alone, but had been joined in their game by another girl and a boy. Hermione supposed that she wouldn't be getting any more reading done in that compartment so she ventured out into the corridor again.

Almost immediately she was approached by a slightly chubby, round-faced boy. "Excuse me," he said anxiously, "have you seen a toad? I've lost mine."

"No, I'm sorry, I haven't," replied Hermione. At the sight of the boy's disappointed face she continued, "I'll help you look though. My name is Hermione Granger, by the way, what's yours?"

"Neville Longbottom."

"Well, Neville, we're closer to the back of the train, so how about we start at the very end and work our way towards the front?"

"But, I've already asked the people in the back," protested Neville.

"Well, they might have seen him since you've asked." And without waiting for a reply she turned and marched down towards the last compartment. It was quite nice to have something productive to do.

The first few people she asked told her that they hadn't seen Neville's toad without incident. It wasn't until they had reached the fifth compartment from the end that something interesting happened. Pulling open the compartment door she said the usual "Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one."

She barely registered the rather rude reply of "We've already told him we haven't seen it," from a tall red-haired boy when she noticed that the same boy was holding a wand aloft, clearly about to perform magic.

"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it then."

The boy looked slightly uncomfortable for a moment then said "er- alright." He cleared his throat and recited:

"_Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow_

_Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."_

Nothing happened.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" asked Hermione. "Well, it's not very good is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me." Realizing that she sounded as though she thought this boy couldn't do magic she continued hurriedly, trying to reassure him. "Nobody in my family's magic at all. It was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard-." She was about to launch into a discussion of what _Hogwarts a History _had to say about other magical schools, but decided against it. "I've learned all our course books by heart, of course. I just hope it will be enough." Sometime during the last sentence Hermione noticed that she was talking these boys' ears off and hadn't even introduced herself. "I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"

"I'm Ron Weasley," muttered the red-haired boy whose spell had just failed.

"Harry Potter," answered the other boy in the compartment. He was short and thin with black hair and bright green eyes and wore a pair of very beat up glasses and clothes that were far too large for his small frame.

"Are you really?" exclaimed Hermione, surprised that this disheveled boy could be _the_ famous Harry Potter. "I know all about you of course-." Hermione didn't want this statement to seem odd so she decided to give a little more information. "I got a few extra books for background reading and you're in _Modern Magical History_, and _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts,_ and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_."

"Am I?" Harry asked looking stunned.

"Goodness, didn't you know, I'd of found out everything I could if it was me." Hermone couldn't believe that Harry didn't know that he was in so many books. Then it hit her, Harry was her age and bound to be in her year. Maybe he or this Ron fellow knew something about the sorting that she didn't. "Do either one of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad." The boys sitting before her looked thoroughly gobsmacked by this flow of information and Neville standing at her side was shifting from foot to foot with a mixture of anxiety and impatience. Hermione decided that Harry and Ron didn't know anymore about the sorting than she did, by the looks on their faces, they probably knew even less. "Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon."

Hermione and Neville went all the way up the train but could find no trace of Trevor the toad. The students were clearly anxious to get off the train and perhaps the sugar from all the candy on the lunch trolley was contributing to the hyperactive behavior of her peers. Looking with mild disdain upon the students running up and down the corridors and passing by her old compartment where there was still a lively game of exploding snap taking place she decided to see if harry Potter and Ron Weasley might allow her to sit in their compartment, unless, of course, they were involved in some other form of immature behavior.

As Hermione approached the boys' compartment she heard a clatter that sounded like a lot of small items falling on the floor. Then someone in the compartment let out a horrible yell of pain. Finally there was a small thud and three boys backed out the door. Two of the boys were very large and thuggish. One of them seemed to be nursing s wound on his index finger. The other was much smaller, pale, blonde, and wore a sneer that said he thought he was better than everyone else.

"What _has_ been going on?" Hermione said as she stepped into the compartment. The floor was littered with sweets and it became obvious that the clatter she had heard was a spilled box of Bertie Botts Evert Flavor Beans. Ron Weasley was picking up a fat grey rat by the tail and, completely ignoring Hermione and her question, turned to Harry.

"I think he's been knocked out," he said, then looking more closely at the rodent amended, "No- I don't believe it- he's gone back to sleep."

Ron sat back down and put his rat back in his pocket. "You've met Malfoy before?" Ron asked Harry.

Hermione thought Malfoy must be one of the boys that had just left and as Harry related the story of his meeting with Draco Malfoy in Madam Malkins she realized that her guess was correct.

After Harry finished his tale Ron thought for a minute then said darkly, "I've heard of his family. They were some of the first to come back to our side after you-know-who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it. He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side. Apparently he was done ignoring Hermione because he rounded on her and demanded in a very rude tone, "Can we help you with something?"

Hermione felt rather taken aback by this boy's lack of courtesy and tried to use her best confident voice to disguise her surprise. Unfortunately it came across as rather bossy. "You'd better hurry up and put your robes on. I've just been up to the front to ask the conductor and he says we're nearly there. You haven't been fighting have you? You'll be in trouble before we even get there."

"Scabbers has been fighting, not us," countered Ron with a scowl. "Would you mind leaving while we change?"

It was quite obvious that he simply wanted to get rid of her.

"All right-," said Hermione, and then feeling the need to justify herself, "I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors." Despite the fact that Ron Weasley had been very rude to her and that she was partially inclined to allow him to show up at Hogwarts with a smudge of dirt on his nose, she decided that it would be even meaner for her to let him to make a bad first impression. So she turned around as she was about to leave and said, "and you've got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?'

Less than ten minutes later the train pulled to a stop and the students poured out off the train into the cold night air. A very large man with a bright lantern was calling over the crowd for the first years. Hermione followed the man and her year mates down a steep and slippery path. The big man leading them said loudly, "yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts I a sec', jus' round this bend here," As she rounded the indicated bend her breath was taken away by the sight of the vast castle atop a cliff on the other side of a great black lake. There were pictures in _Hogwarts: A History_, of course, but nothing could have prepared her for such grandeur.

At the end of the path, the tall man directed them to a fleet of little boats. Hermione ended up in a boat with Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Neville Longbottom. Once everyone had found a place in a boat a loud command of "FORWARD!" caused the boats to begin gliding smoothly across the lake. Just as it seemed they were about to sail directly into the cliff, the man that Harry Potter told her was called Hagrid instructed them to put their heads down. The backs of their necks brushed against a curtain of ivy as the boats continued through an opening concealed under the cliff. Eventually they reached a kind of underground harbor. Hermione and the others clambered out of the boats and followed Hagrid up a flight of stairs to a set of large oak doors.

"Everyone here? You there, still got your toad?" asked Hagrid. Neville held up Trevor, who had been found in the boats after the trip across the lake.

Hagrid turned away from the group, raised a gigantic fist, and knocked three times upon the door.


	5. The Sorting

Good Afternoon!

I have decided to be generous and post another chapter. I've had this written for a while ande I polished it up this morning. I suppose that it makes little sense to withhold finished chapters, in fact it's kind of mean. You really will have to wait a week for the next installment though. It's not quite finished but it does have over 2500 words already.

This is also an excellent time to tell you all that I have recently acquired a Live Journal which I am dedicating to my fics, and other Harry Potter related endeavors. I will post about updates on there or if there has been a lack of updates you will be likely to find the reason there too. Since I can't link directly from here, you can find it directly from my author profile under "homepage".

Well, that's enough waffling for now. On with the story!

The Sorting

The echo of Hagrid's last knock was being carried away by the wind as the oak front door swung open. Silhouetted in the light from the entrance hall was Professor McGonagall wearing long witch's robes of the deepest emerald.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," rumbled Hagrid.

"Thank you, Hagrid, I will take them from here." She held the door open for the students as they entered. Hermione was once again rendered breathless at the sight of the enormous flag-stoned entrance hall. The ceiling was so high that it was not visible in the gloom. Double doors on the right opened into a large brightly lit room where the voices of many students chatted happily. That must be the great hall thought Hermione. However, Professor McGonagall didn't lead the first years into the hall, but instead to a small, empty chamber on the left.

They all crowded in. Hermione was squashed between Neville and a sandy-haired boy she didn't know. Professor McGonagall shut the door behind her and began to speak.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," she said. 'The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory and spend free time in your house common room.

The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarted yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

McGonagall's eyes lingered briefly on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on the still dirty nose of Ron Weasley. Hermione did her best to smooth her bushy hair and hastily straightened her robes.

"I will return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly," finished McGonagall and then she was gone.

Anxious chattering broke out around her. Hermione was so nervous that she felt quite nauseous. Turning to the sandy haired boy next to her she asked, "What spells do you think we have to know?" The boy seemed too scared to speak, but Hermione was too frightened to be quiet. She began listing off all the spells she could do and everything she knew about them. Then something very important occurred to her. She had never been able to transfigure something completely. She had tried to change a match into a needle at home but she had only made it silver and pointy. It was still definitely made out of wood. What if they were asked to transfigure something and she got kicked out because she didn't know how? She whispered all of this very quickly to the boy next to her. He was starting to look rather green.

Then something happened that almost made Hermione forget about how she was about to fail to transfigure something and get kicked out of Hogwarts on her first night. Several pearly white and transparent things…. ghosts perhaps…. had just floated through the wall. Hermione let out a shriek of surprise. She wasn't the only one.

Once the screams of fright had died away Hermione could hear the ghosts, for that was what she had decided they were, arguing about someone named Peeves and whether or not he deserved another chance. Another chance at what, Hermione couldn't tell. A ghost wearing a ruff and tights, who seemed to think Peeves had already been given all the chances he deserved, finally noticed the group of eleven year-olds.

"I say, what are you all doing here?"

No one said anything. Hermione's instinct to answer any question was overpowered by her nerves and the shock at seeing a real live – well, not quite live – ghost.

"New students!" exclaimed a short and fat ghost in a friar's habit. "About to be sorted, I suppose?"

Hermione and several others nodded but still said nothing.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuf!" chortled the friar, "my old house you know."

At that moment Professor McGonagall returned. "Move along now," she said to the ghosts, "The sorting ceremony is about to start." McGonagall instructed the first years to form a single file line. She led them back across the entrance hall and through the doors into the great hall.

The hall was enormous and brightly lit with thousands of candles floating in mid-air above four long tables decorated in the house colors. Above the candles was the famous ceiling, enchanted to look like the sky outside. Hermione heard several people speculating about it behind her, and to give herself something else to think about whispered to them, "it's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in _Hogwarts: a History_."

The first years were led between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuf tables towards what was clearly a table for the teachers. Hermione's stomach was full of butterflies and she was perspiring slightly. They reached the professors' table and then turned to face the students. It was very uncomfortable to be watched by so many pairs of eyes. Professor McGonagall disappeared around the back of the head table for a moment and returned with a four legged stool. She set the stool in front of the first years and placed on top of it an old, frayed, and dirty hat that had been patched in many places.

McGonagall stepped back and all the students in the hall stared intently at the hat. Hermione stared at it too. At first it seemed as though nothing would happen. Suddenly, the hat twitched, a rip opened near the brim, and it began to sing.

_Oh you may not think me pretty,  
But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.  
You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the __Hogwarts__ Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all.  
There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be.__Gryffindor__,  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry  
Set __Gryffindor__s apart;  
You might belong in __Hufflepuff__,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient __Hufflepuff__s are true  
And unafraid of toil;  
Or yet in wise old __Ravenclaw__,  
if you've a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;  
Or perhaps in __Slytherin__  
You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folks use any means  
To achieve their ends._

You might belong in

So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I'm a Thinking Cap!

A surge of relief flooded through Hermione. All she had to do was try on a hat! That was easy enough. Hermione applauded with everyone else in the hall as the sorting hat bowed to the four house tables and then stilled. Professor McGonagall unrolled a long roll of parchment and said, "When I call your name you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted."

Her crisp voice then rang through the hall, "Abbot, Hannah"

Hermione watched Hannah join the Hufflepuf table and tried to wait patiently for Professor McGonagall to reach the Gs. Patience seemed to be hard to come by tonight and Hermione's was waning fast.

Finally the Fs were finished with Seamus Finnigan who became a Gryffindor. Hermione waited with bated breath while Gregory Goyle, the boy who had been bitten by Ron Weasley's rat, was sorted. At last he joined the Slytherin table.

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione was so nervous and excited that she very nearly ran to the stool and shoved the hat on her head with a little more force than was strictly necessary.

"Well, now, what do we have here?" said a small voice in Hermione's ear. "A brilliant mind, I see, but also courage, and loyalty, and oooh quite a bit of cunning and ambition too. So, where shall I put you?"

"Please Gryffindor," thought Hermione anxiously.

"Gryffindor, eh? You'd make a great Ravenclaw with this mind, oh yes, you would."

"What good are brains if I don't know how to use them to do good things?" Hermione countered mentally.

"True, perfectly true," replied the hat. "You've got the courage of a Gryffindor, no doubt about that. So if you're sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Then let it be GRYFFINDOR!"

The hat shouted the last word so that the entire school could hear. Hermione removed the hat, placed it back on the stool, and scurried off to join the scarlet and gold Gryffindor table. She took an empty seat next to a red-haired boy who congratulated her and introduced himself as "Percy Weasley, Gryffindor Prefect."

Hermione watched the rest of the sorting with interest, trying to remember all the names of her new class mates and pleased to note that she was in the same house as Harry Potter, who seemed like a nice enough boy, even if he had rude friends. As the last student, Blaise Zabini, became a Slytherin the applause and cheers died down into silence. Once everyone was quiet, Albus Dumbledore stood, resplendent in midnight blue robes with twinkling stars, and addressed the school.

"Welcome," he said, "welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

The hall burst into applause again as he resumed his seat. Hermione thought this was a rather strange message and was wondering if there was a special meaning behind them. She heard Harry Potter asking Percy Weasley if Dumbledore was a bit mad. If Hermione hadn't read so many books citing Dumbledore as the greatest wizard of modern times, she might have been asking the same question.

At that moment the golden plates were no longer empty, but teeming with food of every kind. There were a dozen or more varieties of meat; boiled, baked, steamed, and fried vegetables; salads; soups; and a large array of condiments. Hermione wasn't sure what to eat first so she took a little from every serving platter near her and began to tuck in.

Soon she was involved in a discussion with Percy Weasley about Hogwarts. He was very knowledgeable. Indeed, he was the only other student in the vicinity who seemed to have read _Hogwarts: A History_.

"What can you tell me about the teachers?" she asked Percy, gesturing to the staff table.

"Well," said Percy, "furthest on the left you have Hagrid. He's not actually a teacher, but the gamekeeper. He knows a lot about both magical and mundane creatures, knows a lot about plants too. Next to him is Mr. Filch, the caretaker. Filch has a horrible cat, Mrs. Norris, definitely don't want to get on the wrong side of either of them. Madame Pince is next. She's the librarian. Don't ever damage one of her books or she'll kick you out of the library. Next to her is Madame Pomfrey, the school healer. She can fix almost any injury or illness in an instant. Then you have Professor Sprout. She teaches Herbology and is the head of Hufflepuf house. She's a good teacher. Likes her plants more than people, but that might be a good thing with her job. Next is Professor Flitwick, He's the head of Ravenclaw and teaches Charms. Almost everyone leaves Hogwarts with a NEWT in Charms. Very smart old fellow, rumor is that he used to be a dueling champion. The witch next to him is Professor McGonagall. She's Deputy Headmistress, Transfiguration teacher, and head of our house, but don't expect her to favor you just because you're a Gryffindor. She's really strict but also very fair."

"I've met Professor McGonagall," said Hermione, "she came to tell my family about Hogwarts and took us to Diagon Alley."

"Did she?" asked Percy, but he didn't wait for a reply, before he continued in full flow about the Professors. Gesturing towards the center of the head table he said "Professor Dumbledore is the headmaster obviously. Absolutely brilliant, he's the most powerful wizard in the world. The dark haired one next to him is Professor Snape, head of Slytherin and Potions Professor. Everyone knows he favors his own house and thinks most of his students are idiots. Right now he's talking to Professor Quirrell. Quirrell teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts. Apparently he hasn't been quite the same since he had a run in with some vampires on his travels. The next four professors teach electives that you won't be able to take until your third year: Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, Care of Magical Creatures, and Muggle Studies, so I'll skip those. The last one on the end is Madame Hooch. She teaches flying lessons for first years and referees all the Quidditch matches.

An hour passed before the remnants of the food on the serving platters melted away to be replaced by a plethora of desserts. As Hermione helped herself to a scoop of vanilla ice cream and a slice of hot apple pie, she turned the topic of conversation to upcoming lessons.

"I'm very excited for classes to start," she said, "I _do _hope they start right away, there's so much to learn."

Percy nodded his understanding and Hermione continued, "I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know turning something into something else, of course, it's supposed to be very difficult."

"It is," Percy confirmed. Hermione was glad to hear this. She still was unhappy with the fact that she was unable to fully complete a transfiguration.

Percy took a bite of his chocolate éclair, swallowed, then elaborated, "You'll be starting small, just matches into needles and that sort of thing." Hermione asked Percy if he was able to give her any advice for improving her transfiguration and he provided her with several useful tips. The two spent the rest of dessert discussing the finer points of beginning transfiguration.

Just as Hermione was beginning to think it would be difficult to stay awake much longer and wondering when they would be allowed to go to bed, the dessert disappeared and Dumbledore got to his feet again. He cleared his throat and then spoke.

"Just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember as well." Dumbledore's twinkling eyes landed for a moment on a pair of identical red-haired boys who, Hermione was sure, must be related to Ron and Percy Weasley.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

And Finally, I must tell you that this year, the third floor corridor on the right-hand side is out-of-bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

A few people laughed. Hormone was not one of them.

"And now before we go to bed, let us sing the school song." Dumbledore flicked his wand and a long golden ribbon flew out of the end and twisted itself in midair into words. "Everyone pick their favorite tune, and off we go!"

_Hogwarts__, __Hogwarts__, Hoggy Warty __Hogwarts__,  
Teach us something, please,  
Whether we be old and bald  
Or young with scabby knees,  
Our heads could do with filling  
With some interesting stuff,  
For now they're bare and full of air,  
Dead flies and bits of fluff,  
So teach us things worth knowing,  
Bring back what we've forgot,  
Just do your best, we'll do the rest,  
And learn until our brains all rot._

Hermione thought this was a very strange school song, but sang as directed, picking a tune from a minuet she could play on the piano. Everyone finished at different times until the last ones left singing were the Weasley twins. They had picked a very slow funeral march.

Dumbledore conducted the last few lines with his wand and then applauded loudly. "Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now bedtime. Off you trot!"

Percy gathered all the first years and led them out of the Great Hall, through the Entrance Hall, and up a grand marble staircase. They traipsed though a seemingly endless maze of corridors and staircases. Some of the doors they had to open were behind tapestries or were sliding panels of wall. Hermione tried to remember the way, but it was too confusing and she was too tired.

Not paying enough attention, she walked straight into Lavender Brown when they came to a sudden halt. There was a bundle of walking sticks floating in mid air over their heads. "Peeves," Percy whispered to the group, "a poltergeist." Then much louder he shouted, "Peeves- show yourself"

The only answer was a very rude noise coming somewhere to their left.

"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?" asked Percy.

A second later there was a small pop and a little man with dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, sitting cross-legged in the air, and clutching the walking sticks. "Oooooooooooh," he cackled, "Ickle firsties, what fun!"He swopped suddenly at the first years who ducked, terrified.

"Go away Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" barked Percy in his most authoritative voice.

Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, but not before dropping the walking sticks with a clatter on Neville's head.

"You want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy while setting off down the corridor again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are"

They had arrived at the end of the corridor. The wall was covered with a large painting of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

"Password!" the portrait demanded.

"Caput Draconis," said Percy in a clear, carrying voice so that all the first years could hear. The painting swung forward revealing a hole in the wall. Percy climbed through and directed the younger students to follow. The Gryffindor common room was large, yet cozy. There was a blazing fire in the hearth casting a warm glow on the wood paneled walls and the scarlet, over-stuffed armchairs. Large tables were spread throughout the room for studying, and groupings of couches made ideal social areas.

No one felt like socializing at the moment, however, and Percy directed the boys through one door and the girls through another. At the top of a very long, spiral staircase they found a door marked first years. Pushing the door open, they found their beds in a round room with large windows. Hermione's trunk had been placed at the foot of a large four-poster bed with red velvet hangings. Too tired to explore her new sleeping quarters much, Hermione pulled out a pair of pajamas, changed, and climbed into an incredibly soft bed. She was asleep almost at once.


End file.
